


seven

by januarymadson



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dom Hannibal, Dom Hannibal Lecter, Face-Fucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Office Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Will, bratty sub Will, fucking in a therapist’s office, the porn chapter got away from me, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/januarymadson/pseuds/januarymadson
Summary: The only thing that calls to me more than sub Will is bratty sub Will.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 215
Collections: Hannigram





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #7: “Make me.” *gently removes glasses*
> 
> Honestly writing Hannibal makes me So Nervous so let’s see how this goes.

If you’ve ever been in a therapist’s waiting room, you’ll understand his subconscious, anxious jitters. 

If you’ve ever been in this waiting room...well, not many have.

While the inner office was perfectly inviting, the waiting room was purposefully left to feel like an underground mausoleum that didn’t get any direct sunlight. The cold seeped through to your bones faster than was probably normal. Hannibal had that effect on places.

Precisely on time, the heavy, Victorian-style door swung open to reveal a familiar frame; angular, well-dressed, and frustratingly put together despite the lateness of the hour. Anyone else would have some outward sign of fatigue from the day.

“Hello, Will. Please, come in,” he greeted Will warmly, offsetting the deeply internal chill of the waiting room.

With a grateful nod and a tight smile, Will sidled past him through the tight doorway, intentionally keeping his front towards Hannibal but his eyes away. Their energy met for a sharp moment before almost physically bouncing away from one another, Will setting his bag on the chaise with habitual accuracy while Hannibal secured the door behind them, expression measured.

Hannibal turned to face Will, hands settling in his pockets with practiced comfort as he took slow steps towards the center of the room. Despite being physically more comfortable in this warmer room, Will tensed as the tension between them radiated, bringing uncertainty and an awkwardness that was almost charming to the way he stood. He pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to mimic Hannibal’s posture too obviously.

“You will have to forgive me for jumping right in, so to speak. Last time we met, we spoke extensively about Jack’s most recent assignment for you. Tell me: how have you felt since then?”

Will laughed once, incredulous. Last time they met, he thought, they’d spent the hour poring over crime scene photos and forensic reports, yes, but what Hannibal failed to acknowledge in his polite, professional opening wasn’t what they talked about. As Will had tried to generate cogent opinions without ducking behind the golden pendulum, Hannibal lurked behind him, always a hair’s breadth away. If he needed to reach something on the table, his other hand wrapped around Will’s opposite hip, warm and gentle, yet commanding. More than once, Will tried to turn away from the table for a reference book only to catch himself before walking into Hannibal’s chest. The same warmth connected with his shoulders, masking a constant desire for contact with a polite redirection. They were intimately and infuriatingly entangled for 60 painful minutes, yet when the familiar chill of the waiting room ushered him back into the real world, Will felt some deep part of himself desperately wishing he’d never left. 

“How have I felt since last time?” Unsure what else to do with them, Will slid his hands into his pockets. “Frustrated, in a word.”

“You are struggling to find insight to this particular killer, then?”

“Must be it.”

Hannibal hummed, eyes narrowing as he seemed to zoom in on Will, examining closely. They stood no more than 6 feet apart by now, each daring the other to break eye contact first. Just as Hannibal took a breath to speak again, Will cut him off. “You must have had a similar experience as a surgeon, Dr. Lecter.” The formality dripped with sarcasm and impudence. “Surely someone came to you with some sort of ailment you couldn’t identify, let alone treat.” 

“Of course.” Hannibal paused. Will crossed his arms over his chest, feeling that same deep, dark part of himself pulling to the surface as Hannibal spoke. “Would you like to--”

“I do wish I could observe you working the same way you get to observe me,” Will interjected, again cutting him off. No, he didn’t know why he’d begun down this path, but he was curious to see where it ended. He noted each shift in Hannibal’s expression as he registered the purposeful nature of Will’s rudeness. Just as he predicted, Hannibal was becoming increasingly more agitated the more Will trampled over their social contract. “You look at these cases with me, but it’s not like I could see patients with you.” 

“Will, what--”

“No.” Will punctuated the word with a surprisingly bold step forwards. “I don’t want you to ask how I’ve been feeling since last time we met. I don’t want to hear about when you got stuck on a case.” He continued forward, ending each sentence with another footfall, relishing in the buzzing approval the darkness inside him gave as he moved in closer. “I want you to tell me what the fuck last time was really about.”

Externally, Will was confident and sure of himself. Internally, he knew the fragility of the branch out onto which he’d ventured. 

Two heavy beats later, Hannibal smiled, withdrawing his hands from his pockets, an action that shouldn’t be threatening. “I’m afraid I am not certain what you mean.”

“Yes, you do,” Will taunted. “You’re being a fucking coward.” Fuck, I hope this works, he thought. “Your memory is better than mine and I remember each,” his final step forward was small, bringing him just into Hannibal’s personal space, arms still crossed defensively. “and every time you touched me.”

Hannibal’s eyes glowed sanguine, his lips barely containing a true smile which would belie the pride he couldn’t help but feel. After months of passivity, Will was finally tapping into that which they both knew was in his person, his genes. Neither could have predicted how it would manifest, but also, neither particularly minded.

“Here,” he put one hand on Hannibal’s hip, “and here,” the other came to rest high on Hannibal’s shoulder, pretending not to notice how easy it would be to slide up to his throat. 

A breath. 

“Will.”

“Yes?” 

“I must ask you to release me.” 

Fucking professional to the end. 

“Make me,” he spat.


	2. 2

“Will.”

“Yes?” 

“I must ask you to release me.” 

_ Fucking professional to the end.  _ “Make me,” he spat, fingers curling through Hannibal’s belt loop. 

With a blink, the air shifted and suddenly Hannibal was removing Will’s glasses with unexpected softness. He set them, primly folded, on the desk behind him, before turning back to face Will, molten lust finally on his breath. 

“Very well.”

_ Shit.  _

Will couldn’t react to being pulled in until it was far too late to say anything but  _ yes _ . One hand tangled in Will’s hair, forcing him to meet Hannibal in a ferocious kiss while Hannibal’s other hand slid Will’s fingers from belt loops to buckle. Satisfied Will understood his task, Hannibal brought his free hand up to wrap around Will’s waist, silently treasuring the feeling even as Will, reluctantly, pulled his mouth away. 

“Thought you’d never catch on,” he breathed, pulling Hannibal’s belt off in one quick motion. 

Hannibal growled deep in his chest in response, voice rumbling and thickly accented. “This is what you wanted, no? Push me until I gave in to you? As if this was, truly, your idea?” He bit at Will’s neck with each question, working each button of his collared shirt open painfully slowly. 

“Wh—“

Hannibal stopped the word in his throat, suddenly gripping Will by the neck just hard enough to keep him quiet. “No,” he murmured, “I think you’ve said enough.” He moved them away from the desk, kicking Will’s belongings from the chaise before throwing him down on it. 

“Yes, sir,” Will drawled, grinning wickedly.

Sitting up, he threw his shirt to one side and reached out to unfasten Hannibal’s slacks, pleased and aroused by the prevalent outline forming in the front. Emboldened by what, he wasn’t sure, Will looked up at Hannibal, forcing himself to keep eye contact as he slid the other man’s dress pants down to the ground. Paying no mind to what he was sure was some type of finicky fabric, Will took the base of Hannibal’s cock in one hand and tugged at the hem of his suit vest with the other. 

Rather than acquiesce, Hannibal took hold of Will by the hair again, pushing Will’s mouth towards his cock with delicious ease. He stifled a small gasp as Will’s lips wrapped around his head, relishing the warm wetness of the other man’s mouth.

“If you need me to stop, tap me twice on the leg.” 

Nervous but trusting, Will nodded. Almost simultaneously, Hannibal’s hands tightened in his hair, holding him still while his hips thrust forward until his cock hit the back of Will’s throat. He repeated the motion once more slowly before speeding up, fucking Will’s mouth with a small sense of pride as Will took it all, bracing but never pulling away.

Will moaned around Hannibal’s cock, angling his head slightly to again look upward, silently pleading for more. Saliva dripped down his chin as he opened his mouth even further, drinking in as much of Hannibal as he could. The smell of arousal hung in the air between them, heavy and intoxicating.

Reining in his desire to truly punish Will’s jaw, Hannibal slowed his pace until he only pushed half of himself between Will’s lips. With a frustrated grumble, Will grabbed his ass, hungrily devouring Hannibal’s cock again, desperate to feel his hardness. 

“No, no, dear boy, not yet,” Hannibal chided, chuckling at his beautiful desperation. When Will didn’t stop, he tightened his grip on Will’s hair, pulled him back sharply, and, again, threw him backwards. The intensity of the  _ want  _ in Will’s eyes could have, would have, swayed a lesser man, Hannibal thought to himself. “Your enthusiasm is beautiful, but I must insist.”

“Getting shy?” Will teased, riding the high of this power struggle as long as he could. Forcing himself to stare into Hannibal’s eyes and not at his cock, which he’d begun stroking in long, slow motions, Will freed his own hard cock from his jeans, spat on his hand, and started working himself the same way. 

Hannibal’s gaze darkened.  _ Such impudence,  _ he thought, fighting a smile as a sense of pride washed over him. If Will wanted to incite him to punishment, so be it. 

He stepped to the end of the long lounge chair where Will had toed off his shoes & kicked them to the side, taking the opportunity to let his gaze wander down Will’s body, drinking in the sight of his muscled chest and torso. Grabbing Will by the back of his legs, Hannibal easily flipped him over and tugged his jeans down until they were around his ankles. As much as he’d love to spend more time taking Will apart and learning every individual part of him, that’s not what this encounter was about. Before Will could prop himself up to look back, Hannibal was on top of him, knocking Will’s knees apart and planting his hands on either side of Will’s head, pinning him.

“I am going to fuck you now, Will,” he murmured into Will’s ear, relishing the anticipatory gasp that escaped the other man’s lips. “While nothing would please me more to…” he trailed his tongue softly down the back of Will’s neck and between his shoulder blades, noting the goosebumps he left in his wake, “truly treasure you as the delicacy you are, I am afraid you need to be  _ taken _ more than you need to be treasured this evening.” 

When Will took a shaky breath to respond, Hannibal again cut him off, this time with a sharp bite to his neck, just below the jugular. “Say nothing,” he ordered. “You’ve not yet earned that privilege.” 

Will smiled, allowing himself to slide comfortably into a purely sensory state of mind, not giving a care to anything other than Hannibal’s presence above, on, and inside him. 

Two slick fingers slid into him at a punishing pace, reaching deep inside him to touch his most sensitive nerves, but never remaining to elicit a delicious release. Instead Hannibal scissored his fingers aggressively, stretching Will just to the point where being fucked wouldn’t injure him. Will writhed beneath him, trying and failing to suppress the building desperation he felt as Hannibal worked him open with wicked precision, never settling into a rhythm Will could ride. 

Too soon, Hannibal withdrew his hand, leaving Will to faintly, wantonly grind back against the ghost of the feeling. Remembering his orders, Will only allowed a moan to escape his throat, knowing the effect it would have on Hannibal. As if on cue, Hannibal leaned down to nip on Will’s neck, his breath also thick with want. Wordlessly, he pushed his cock inside, forcing control until Will relaxed into the feeling. 

“Beautiful,  _ mylima _ , absolutely stunning.” 

Will preened at the praise, arching his back to take in even more of Hannibal’s cock. They gasped in unison at the feeling as Will bottomed himself out, delightfully full. 

So many sadistic temptations flitted through Hannibal’s mind, but he pushed them all aside, reminding himself this would not be the last opportunity he would have to choose what to do with Will. Instead, he took a handful of Will’s hair and pulled the other man’s head up, forcing him to brace his palms on the chair and watching the arch in his back and the depth of Hannibal’s cock to deepen. Satisfied with the sight, he again set a punishing pace, relishing the sound and feeling each time he brought Will back to the hilt. 

One hand tangled with hair and the other holding tight to Will’s hip, Hannibal growled in his ear. “If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time. Having you so pliant and—” his breath caught in his throat, “ _ giving  _ beneath me…” he trailed off, reserving the focus to instead convince his own orgasm to wait just a bit longer. “In a word: addictive.”

Blissfully drunk on lust and sensation, Will managed a breathy chuckle. He wouldn’t dare test his boundaries again with a response. 

“Touch yourself for me. Let me feel your release, Will.” He punctuated the commands with an even faster pace, fucking Will ruthlessly as the other man writhed in severe pleasure beneath him, compliant. 

It wasn’t long after Will started timing his strokes with Hannibal’s thrusts that he felt the urge to erupt overwhelm his senses. With a barely stifled  _ Hannibal,  _ he let go, spilling all over his hand and the chair below. Contracting muscles through his orgasm tightened his grip on Hannibal, who staved off his own release only until Will’s relented. Holding on to the sound of his name raw in Will’s voice, he gave in to the feeling of release, unable to stop from gasping out  _ šūdas, fuck, Will  _ as he did. 

It was Will who first blinked from the immediate aftershock, turning over to face Hannibal and capture his lips in a deep, desperate kiss. 

“ _ Thank you.” _


End file.
